Mistletoe Mischief
by letthesongtakeflight
Summary: Or, that time the Tony and the rest of the Avengers conspire to make sure Bucky and Natasha end up together under mistletoe. Christmas fic. Part 1 of "Pretend We're Real People."


"Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening." The mellow tune of _Winter Wonderland_ floated from the speakers in Stark Tower. The Avengers' common living floor was decked out for the holidays. The Christmas tree in the family room was decorated with fairy lights and every Avengers themed bauble Tony could get his hands on. There was a wreath on every door, holly lined every edge, surfaces were even sprinkled with fake snow. And of course, there was mistletoe strategically placed throughout the floor so that it was near impossible to not end up beneath one at some point in the night.

Which worked out well for Tony, seeing as he and Steve were a perfectly cute and adorably disgusting couple. They were glued to each other's side practically all evening, smooching every time someone – usually Tony – pointed out that they were under a mistletoe. The rest of the Avengers didn't seem to mind – Thor was amused at how Midgardians have adopted an Asgardian custom, Clint never had any qualms about kissing absolutely everyone, and Bruce claimed the mistletoe-free comfy chair and had no intention of moving all evening. Natasha had carefully mapped out the route to avoid both the mistletoe and Bucky, who thankfully seemed to have the same idea.

The team knew about their past, since the Red Room and her name had come up in their investigations about Bucky's past. She didn't exactly mind them knowing, it was just that she wouldn't have chosen to let them know. She knew that her past was something they had the right to know, given how dubious it was, but at the same time there were things about it that she wanted to remain private. Her relationship with James was one of them – something deeply intimate and personal, something that was long behind her and she had no desire to revisit. Even if he was now on the same side as her, the good side or so they both hoped it was, and the same spark between them was maybe still there.

But it was too soon to start again, not when Bucky was still sorting out his memories and she was still trying to figure out how she felt about him and they were both still testing the waters. Besides, it would be unfair for her to take advantage of his vulnerability and start something with him again, when he couldn't tell his real memories apart from the ones implanted in him by the Soviets and by Hydra. So, staying apart was clearly wiser, for the foreseeable future and especially for tonight.

It worked out fairly well, Natasha mostly curled up in the sofa with a drink, talking to Clint or Bruce, or going to the bar for a new one. Then the end of the night came near and Clint dragged her from her seat towards the bar to get him a drink. In his tipsy stumble he barreled straight into Tony's path, and at the same time Bucky crashed into Steve, and Natasha and Bucky were sent spinning towards one another. They collided and Bucky steadied Natasha with his hands on her waist.

He apologized abashedly in the embarrassed way that Natasha always fell for. "Sorry, didn't see you, I literally ran into Steve and –"

"It's okay," she giggled. Natasha Romanoff _never_ giggled.

"You've been avoiding me all night." His brows pulled down in the middle in an expression that looked almost like a sad puppy. His boyishness had always struck her, even in their Red Room days.

But she was no longer a flustered young girl and she now knew how to play this game of coyness and flirtation now better than she did then. "I thought you were avoiding me," she replied lightly. "I was sitting over by the couches all night, you could have come up to me."

He ducked his head sheepishly and began to mumble an answer, but Tony yelled, "Look up, you dorks!" They did, and there it was – a garland of mistletoe that dangled above them from a ribbon. Bucky looked down at Natasha and gave a little chuckle. "I'm sure that was a complete accident," he deadpanned.

"Of course it would be," she agreed drily. "You know what, I'm sure that Clint making me leave my safe spot on the couch was a coincidence…"

"So was Steve's lame excuse to get me to come over here," Bucky said with a smirk.

"And _of course_ Tony didn't run into us on purpose," Natasha finished.

"Our friends are assholes," Bucky concluded with a laugh.

Natasha laughed too. "Can't deny them that. But we _are_ under mistletoe…"

Bucky looked a little nervous. He lifted one of his hands, the right one, to cup her face – but hesitated before he touched her skin, like he wasn't sure he could. "Shall we, then?"

She rolled her eyes, but gave a rueful smile. "Why not, right?" So Bucky cupped her cheek and he kissed her, shy and unsure. Yet it was familiar at the same time, and it reminded Natasha of everything about him – all their stolen kisses, the midnight trysts, the whispered words of love. And she knew then that despite everything that they had been through separately, he still made her heart flutter and her hands shake and her insides soft and all those other things she hated. She wanted to let him know this, to hold him close and kiss him deeply, but before she could muster the courage to do so he pulled back.

He let out a shaky chuckle when he met her eyes. There was a spark of something real in their blue depths, and she hoped that maybe, it was an echo of what was in hers. She was sure that, if he knew her half as well as he used to, he could read the same sentiment in her expression. "James," she breathed, and his eyes lit up. He almost bent to kiss her again and she rose up on her toes in anticipation – then someone whistled loudly and the moment was broken. Natasha settled back onto her heels and Bucky straightened. Clint was cheering, Thor was applauding, and Steve and Tony, wrapped in each other's arms, were beaming proudly.

Natasha stepped away from the mistletoe, careful to avoid other hanging traps, and Bucky slipped away to join Bruce at the bar. But he caught Natasha's eye and the smile that passed between them was a silent understanding, a promise of something yet to come.

* * *

 **Notes:**

Late for Christmas, I know, but I just had this idea today and I promise there will be a sequel for New Years!

Merry Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate), and Happy New Year all you lovely people!


End file.
